WHAT HO!

Bay of Plenty Times, Volume LXXI, Issue 13801, 19 November 1942, Page 7

WHAT HO!

time ,;fi ia | >i ' gaol, ami a short a« 1“ love ' ,*£*** >*•**** •: S,E 'a half-mile track as. > 11 * nunUt philosophy, U his ° P L ce rs at the future worries about !< n d Lester’s Wall, his iK; 1 “g,e ?«»<!«• “ d 1110 frame ° f et»«‘ ,ora ” lk » morning, Behmd fgteEley Castle, to-day a ilor It was the day tt! 9 * , and guests, sen avalanche of luggage '£** '-‘° tl,e histonc

)t pleasure alone that sent “.steady pace over hill ami good (our miles- Helm-

ramble he had spied '.Ling its den in a copse not L that ill-omened barrier '.n-all. His goal now was this Lhis intention either to warn »to slay home on the moi\t to scare it away to some i-d distant spot.

cached Lester's Wall. Notched i desperado’s gun it was, with for each hunter who saeto grief attempting to jump i counted sixteen sinister nicks, diddered with each nick. To atoride, however, meant being d;d as a saffron quitter. He did ire what Captain Duff-Hooper jink of him, but Rosa Bingijpluion seemed to Ernest the important thing in the world, ie didn’t ride he risked a a heart; if he did ride he riskhroken neck.

iailed Lester’s Wall, not soarpa it but scrambling laborious:l made his way toward the fox x Ten yards from it he stoptot; the green grass at his attained with blood. Now he 3’ood the full meaning of a retCaptain Duff-Hooper had made tor the night before.

bshould have jolly good sport,” A had said. “Farmers reiwrous foxes in the neighwi This morning Lord Feli!'sPick had a splendid run. The wly got to earth, but they imade the kill in Kingsley’s

1 then, must be Kingsley’s Ernest gave out a sound, half tail oath. "Too late!” he

about to turn away he ’* a sound which started off as hark and ended in a fright'himper, Thrusting his arm to t-ulder into the burrow, he and drew out a feebcub. The little creature JMu that after waiting all !r the return .of its mother, ? ary hungry. Ernest conveyed 5 to the castle under and secretly smuggled it to • r room.

a 'lng bedded the cub down in a closet, he tugged summoned Sloat: LV» g °* warm milk at j: nest said. “And see s s ' s bought here every rv h °, evenm S- I intend to S ’ they ’ re good for the

t 0 set tlle milk anci k. t ' e of this latest Lj r . 6 , mad Amei 'ican. His Lj rn foun d Ernest in ki - o the cub< Ernest Nhedo^. ClOSet and slam ‘ L Sl °at,” he said, taking

“No, sir!”

1 e whine cam.B from the

: e noise, sir?” as ked

eub voiced Us need

Uke^the Sir> ” Said Sloat- *\>< tne cry of a very ?'C h Ernest - Suj Sp dto remem ber that Ss. i.y ant d °es not show Y °urs. sir?- inquired Sr. * r ain g .” boy and a girl. w,, 1 inqulre ' (, en 6aten .” said ErSl;.. Was all Sl oat could ftee from this ** WMlble canni.

A NOVEL B y RICHARD CONNELL

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bal, when Ernest said, “I’m joking, of course. There's no baby in the closet.’

The cub made a liar of him with a yelp.

“There’s something there, sir,” said Sloat,

“I’ve fooled you, Sloat, I’m studying ventriloquism,” explained Ernest. “The earl is teaching me to throw my voice.’ - Sloat relaxed. “I should like to learn how, sir. I could tease Cook.”

The cub made sounds fairly lusty for one so young. “Am I good, or am I good?” asked Ernest.

“Marvellous, sir,” said Sloat. “I could swear there was a baby, or a young animal, in there.” “That’s what practice does,” said Ernest. “You may go now, Sloat.” “Thank you, sir,” said Sloat, and bore his latest bulletin from bedlam to a waiting servant’s hall. Among those into whose receptive ears Sloat poured his tale was Babette, maid to the Duchess of Beddington.

“Quel type d’homme!” said Babette later, while painting on her lady’s face for dinner. “II est toque!” “Don’t jabber,” said the duchess. “He is cracked in the kettle, that monsieur Americain,” said Babette, “Shouldn’t wonder,” drawled the duchess. “Must be, if he’s a friend of George Bingley.” “But he is of richness formidable,” said Babette, etching an eyebrow on her mistress. “And on dit, he has the sheep’s eyes for Lady Rosa.” The Duke of Beddington—Bumpty to his inmates —came in to dress for dinner. He was an angular, bony chatterbox stooped by the weight of a moustache shaped like the horns of a water buffalo. As he insinuated himself into his stiff shirt his mate relayed to him the titbits about Ernest,

“Fella belongs in a loony-bin,” said the duke. “Old Bingo was yarning about him at the Club. Say’s he’s not a bad sort, really, and scandalously rich. Why, the fella stumped up a thousand of the best for a month’s rent of this old hut without batting an eye.’

“Babette says he owns the Mississippi River.”

“Girl always exaggerates,” said the duke. “Doubt if he owns more than half of it.”

The duchess handed on to the Hon. Mrs Fordyce her information about Ernest, and she told Ronnie Pym, and he told Lady Gladys Wotton, and she told Colonel Pringle, D. 5.0., and he told the Countess of Bathberry, and she rushed to the powdering room to scribble down the data for use in her next “Dashing About with, a Dowager” column.

Ernest, unaware of the interest with which his advent was awaited, was playing nurse-maid to the fox cub behind locked doors, when he heard a thumping at his door. “Who is it?” he called out.

“Me. I,” replied the voice of the Earl of Bingley. “May I come in, please?’

“One moment,” said Ernest. He bent close to the little fox. “Now be a good cub and keep quiet,” he whispered.

Then he admitted the earl, who was wearing, a dinner suit he had acquired on his return from the Boei War. Already the bow of-his black tie had ridden around his collar and was diving out of sight.

The earl sniffed. “I say, what sort of perfume do you use, Ernest?” he asked. “I never use any, sir.” ‘‘Don’t you notice a rather iacy aroma?”

“I do,” said the earl. “Bit like a breeze from the small mammal house in the zoo. Must be bats. But no matter. What I came here for was to ;ake you on a round of social calls.” “Where, sir?”

“Right here in the castle. It’s an old tradition. I as host, and you as co-host, must visit all the rooms to summon to dinner any guests who have not already gone down. It start ed in Georgian times,” explained the earl. “In those four-bottle days it behoved a host to make sure that none of the guests had fallen out of a window or rolled under a bed.

(To be continued)